


Entwined Souls

by Irisamore



Category: King Arthur (2004), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Crossover, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-14 20:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19280791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irisamore/pseuds/Irisamore
Summary: Set years before the Knights get their papers. Will the knights accept their destiny and what their heart desires. Will they welcome someone of old who has walked their world for over 10 thousand years? Crossover with Lord of the Rings. A Tristan/OC. My first ever story I've written, decide to face my fears. I hope people can understand it and like it.





	1. Light in the forest

 

  
  
It has been many centuries since the battle of the free people at the Black Gates of Mordor and peace brought upon Middle Earth for centuries.  
  
Time has changed since then.  
  
These lands, they have changed much, the continents have shifted; separating the race of men from each other. Lands scarred from so many battles; men wanted each other nations for their own all in the name of power. Time had gone since men wished to unite all, instead of killing each other.  
  
I have walked the many lands here, hiding in the shadows for centuries, watching men go about their destiny, many who have forgotten the stories of the pasts, they became a whisper and then a myth.  
  
My duty was to document the fate of men, you see, I'm different from my race. 'Special' they would call me, with a destiny of my own. At first, I was angry; I didn't understand why I could not go with my people to the Undying Lands, why I had to stay and wander alone in the world of men. It was not until I came to realise why I was so different. No elf had markings all over their body or white hair with golden eyes. Nor did they share the same love of battles that I did, my people preferred peace and only acted when it was necessary.  
  
Even now thinking of those I cherished long ago, my heart pains for the loss and loneliness I feel, but I must stay strong-minded and fulfil my duty with honour that has befallen me by the Valar. I will walk alone until it's time to remind men of the myths of the past.  
  
Here is where my story begins.  
  
Of all the lands I have walked, this one keeps calling me back. I have no idea why, perhaps, because they are here.  
  
Britannia is what the land was called, now Roman Britain, a small island which has seen many battles. As I wander through the wet and damp forest with the moonlight shining through the cracks of the trees, bouncing off my long silk cloak, the light rain soothes me into a song, though I am wary that someone might hear, even though it's just barely a whisper. Men have not set eyes on an elf for more than 10 thousand years. Only once have I almost been spotted, and only because he was 'special' too. I can sense, part of him is a descendant of my people, I feel content that I have family here, and I'm honestly not alone, even though we have not met, but a small part of me saddens. I realise soon in years to come, my lineage will fade, and I will indeed be forever alone lingering in the shadows.  
  
Until the time comes, I'll wait until the calling calls to me to reveal myself to them. A thought of amusement flickers across my mind of the shocked faces, I would receive. How they have walked without a care in the world around them, and not notice what is genuinely lurking in the shadows. The rain becomes heavy, bringing me out of my deep thoughts, I stop and listen, the forest is quiet for a change; there is no sight of Woads or Romans here tonight. Usually, there is at least one man in the woods at night, though he is no Woad or Roman, a Sarmatian Knight, a scout for the Roman Commander. I remember the first time I saw a glimpse of him; he reminded me of the Rangers of the North, the Dúnedain, men who benefited from long life-spans than that of a regular man. Like the Rangers, the scout is grim in life, appearance, and dress, choosing to wear rustic green and brown with a dark grey cloak. He was tall, muscular, with dark brown hair which was shoulder length with a few braids in it that fell over his deep brown eyes. The only thing that makes him unique to the Rangers was his tattoos, a black line, and a triangle that covers both of his cheekbones. It seemed the scout has had a night off, or I have been caught off guard and have missed him. The night grows darker, so I begin to wander further into the woods without any more thoughts of men and the light that surrounds me fade into the darkness.  
  
In the stables, the scout was preparing his horse for his usually scouting in the woods past the wall. He was late this night, due to his talks with his Commander, he ultimately agreed with him that the Woads have been quiet of late as if they were planning something. He would have to be extra diligent to his surroundings tonight, leading his horse out of the stables he looks up at the sky, wondering if this godforsaken weather on this island will ever make up its mind. Heavy rain hitting his face with a sigh he already knew the answer, riding into the woods hoping to get some shelter from the rain and the wind.  
  
He's been in these woods for two goddam hours and nothing he thought just a fading light; wishing for something to happen so that he could report back to his Commander, it always annoyed him if he couldn't find anything. What a great scout! He mused. Though he's secretly glad there is nothing, he feels exhausted with getting no sleep due to hearing a particular knight activity, how he has any coins left was beyond him, the scout thought. Deciding to call it a night, he started to make his way back to the wall, he had a feeling in the back of his mind that there was something out there. What, he didn't know, though it felt powerful, and one with nature. He wonders if that fading light he saw was connected.  
  
Making it back inside the wall, the scout stripped his horse of its saddle; putting the stuff away quickly in the stables. He's craving to sleep, taking his belongings, as he's making his way to his chambers, noticing that his Commander is still up and is wanting an update, he sighs, sleep will have to wait.  
  
"How was the scouting, still quiet?" Arthur said.  
  
"Extremely quiet." His mind wanders back to the fading light; he's not sure to mention it to his Commander. A puzzled look crossed his face.  
  
"Tristan?" Arthur had noticed his scout's serious face had changed.  
  
"It may be nothing, but there was a strange, fading light."  
  
"Could it be Merlin?" Arthur suggested.  
  
"No, this is different. It was soothing and, and beautiful" Sighing, he wouldn't think he'd use a word such as that.  
  
Arthur looked bemused at the word "beautiful" his scout used. Never had he heard that type of expression come from him, this light has certain rattled him. He continued to listen while he finished up his report.  
  
"I think the Woads and Merlin are being wary and staying clear; I feel there is something out there, more powerful than him." He said with uneasiness.  
  
His scout's uneasiness made him worried; his knights only had a few years of service left. If Tristan is right, as he always is, and Merlin is staying away. How powerful is this person and what are they planning. Turning to his scout and saw how wet and exhausted he was, even though Tristan would never admit it, he decides to finish this conversation in the morning.  
  
"We will finish this tomorrow, you been scouting for a few hours and soaking wet."  
  
With a nod of his head, the scout bid Arthur a goodnight.  
  
Finally, in his chambers, the scout stripped off his wet clothes and hung them over the chair by the small fireplace. The moonlight was giving some light in his room, moving over his scars on his back, wanting to soothe them. His body ached with the cold, from the wet. Getting in his bed and laying on his back, his mind wandered back to the light, and soon he fell into a slumber.  
  
A hand was slowly moving up his body; the touch was so delicate, soothing his aching muscles. He could not move, the power he could feel radiating around him. He didn't want the feeling to end, the touch awoke a fire in him, and he wanted to fuck whoever was giving these pleasures to him until they cried out his name in surrender. He saw a shadow moving closer to his chest, moving to one of his scars he felt them lick and kiss at it, a small moan managed to escape his lips, he tried to get a better look at them, he only saw the shadow of the figure. Their mouth returned to the same scar, and without warning, they bit hard drawing blood. His eyes flew open as he jerks up, sweat covered over his shaking body. Gathering his surrounds, he was still in his room, in his bed. Looking at the small window, he could see it was dawn, he still had a few hours sleep before breakfast and to speak to Arthur, that's if he could fall back asleep.


	2. The Ethereal

He was in a foul mood; he couldn't get back to sleep again after that disturbing dream he had early this morning. Making his way to the kitchen, the rest of the knights were already there.

"What's with the glum look? Didn't you get any kills last night." Bors asked.

Tristan took a seat with a glare while the other knights laughed.

"Apparently, not." Bors laughed. They all knew the scout loved a good kill.

"Merlin has been quiet of late; it's making me uneasy, what the hell is he up to the sneaky bastard," Galahad said.

"ha-ha, it can stay like that for all I care. I want to live to see my end of service to Rome," replied Gawain.

Tristan decided to go seek Arthur out after breakfast, instead of waiting to be requested. As he got up from the table, he gives a last look to the rest of his brothers who started to chat among themselves and made his way to the fort.

Arthur was going over some documents in his chambers when he heard a knock on his door.

"Enter..." Arthur commanded.

Arthur looked up as his trusted scout entered.

"Tristan, have you had any more thoughts on what you saw last night?"

"No." Shaking his head, feeling a bit ashamed for not finding anything.

"We need to figure out whatever is out there if it is more powerful than Merlin as you think," said Arthur, giving a pause.

"I would like you to double up your scouting starting from tomorrow; I want to get as much information as you can find"

"I know this is too much to ask of you, Tristan. I don't want any surprises if they do decide to act. We've lost too many men already." Arthur continued.

Arthur is holding on to some documents, sighed.

"Especially since we'll be having a visit from Rome soon, wanting to know about the ongoing battle with the Woads," Arthur said, looking down.

Tristan was about to respond until Lancelot bursts through the door to see Arthur. He is looking at Tristan with curiosity wondering what mission Arthur has given him, Lancelot looked back at his friend seeing his head down with papers in his hand.

Arthur looks up and notices his best friend and smiles. He gives Tristan a nod of dismissal.

Tristan left his Commander and Lancelot to their will; he decided to meet up with the rest of his brothers.

"What was that about?" Asked Lancelot curiously.

Arthur shook his head with a smirk.

"You do know curiosity killed the cat, Lancelot."

"You sure it wasn't Tristan?" Lancelot retorts back with amusement.

Arthur slaps Lancelot on the back with laughter, as they both made their way to the training grounds where the rest of the knights are.

"Oh look who decided to join us with their presence," Gawain shouted.

"Are you that eager to get beaten Gawain," said Lancelot with an amused face.

A good few hours have passed since training, and the knights were at the tavern drinking heavily, apart from Tristan who was in the stables getting ready for his nightly patrol.

Coming out of his deep thoughts, Merlin looked up to the night sky from the blazing fire he was staring at intensely, sighed. He knows there is someone out there; he can feel the familiar feeling of being connected to them, something tremendous, powerful magic, and ancient. A worried look crossed his face; he needs to know if they are friend or foe; if the woads are going to drive back the Romans from this land, they don't need a surprise. Maybe, whoever they are can aid Arthur to see his destiny and help him unite men. Yes. He would need to come up with a plan, and he hopes he doesn't lose many men if they are indeed a foe. Deciding that this night was the night he would try to seek whoever roams these woods, and hopefully, they would show themselves — walking through the trees on a cold, gloomy night, with the moonlight barely shining through the leaves. The woods were dull with no sign of the fading light around anywhere, suddenly a noise to the right startled him, moving deeper into the woods and hiding behind a tree. A rider comes into view and slowly comes to a halt, he sits very still with his head bowed, listening to his surroundings and then begins to look around for his prey. Merlin still hiding behind the tree looks round to see the scout of Arthur's sliding off his horse with his hand on the hilt of his weapon ready to reveal if attacked.

Merlin wondered if the scout was looking for the same thing he was that night or just his usual scouting. However, something tells him he was looking for the light himself, deciding to follow the scout from far behind, hoping the scout would not hear him. The scout was going deeper into the woods; furthest, he has scouted before.

Tristan knows he's being followed, by who he does not know. Hoping to lose them and get the upper hand, he started to go deeper finding the darkest part of the woods; he saw a few thick-trunked trees clumped together and decided to take cover behind them and prepared himself to ambush whoever they were. He waited for them to pass him to show himself, drawing his bow and moving out he pointed it at them from behind.

Merlin thought he had lost the scout within the dark woods until he heard a familiar sound of a drawing bow. Turning around facing the scout and looked at the bow pointing at him.

"You are good; I thought I lost you," Merlin said.

"Give me a good reason I shouldn't end you," Tristan snarled.

"Maybe we're looking for the same thing," Merlin said.

"The light that fades is powerful" he stated.

"That's not a good reason," Tristan growled back, ready to release his arrow.

Tension grew as scattered leaves rise in the air whirling pass them as if blown by an invisible wind. Both of them look around for any hidden threats, the light they have searched for dances through the trees towards them, a haunting song reaching their ears, they both freeze.

Oh-o freedom.

Oh-o freedom

oh freedom nia nin,

(nia nin.)

a before im n- a múl

im'll n- buried in mui haudh.

A glenn- bar na mui hir a n- lain.

(a n- lain.)

Soon the light was upon them, blinding both. Both men tried to cover their own eyes with their arm without any luck. Soon an ethereal figure appeared in the light, their white garment softly glowing against the green and midnight blue of the woods. The men stared in awe at the figure, never seen anything like this before, both tried not to make a sudden movement, not wanting the feel of the warm, soothing light to leave.

Tristan couldn't see their face; though the figure reminds him of an angel that Arthur once explained. Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world; heavenly or supernatural.

"It seems they do not wish for us to fight," Merlin said.

"Peace upon us this night" stated Merlin, turning around leaving the scout behind.

Tristan watched as Merlin walked away, feeling powerless to stop him. He turned back towards the figure, only to realise that the light was fading and he was alone in the woods.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elvish

Oh-o freedom.

Oh-o freedom

oh freedom nia nin,

(nia nin.)

a before im n- a múl

im'll n- buried in mui haudh.

A glenn- bar na mui hir a n- lain.

(a n- lain.)

Translated.

Oh-o freedom.

Oh-o freedom

Oh freedom over me,

(Over me.)

And before I be a slave

I'll be buried in my grave.

And go home to my Lord and be free.

(and be free.)


End file.
